


I miss you (and will for the rest of my life)

by NightOfTheLand



Category: The Maze Runner (Movies), The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: M/M, Sad, not a fix it, the after life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-06
Updated: 2018-02-06
Packaged: 2019-03-14 11:31:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13589157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NightOfTheLand/pseuds/NightOfTheLand
Summary: Thomas wakes up to a broken heart. And then he wakes up again.





	I miss you (and will for the rest of my life)

**Author's Note:**

> First fic in this fandom. The Death Cure grabbed me by my hair and pulled me up the stairs into this fandom. Please enjoy.

_ Brenda’s face faded from view and it was replaced with images of fire and pain and a once angelic face twisted in rage, ravaged by the virus that no one could stop - no that he had been too late to stop. Pain. Pain. Hands on his body. The sound of the berg. Voices shouting to be heard, above the noise all around them. Thomas gasped out a name, pain coursing through him before the world went black.  _

 

The first thing Thomas noticed was the tone. Whoever was talking was extremely pissed. And from the sounds of it they were extremely pissed at  _ him _ . Thomas groaned incoherently, trying to get words out that just wouldn’t come. The voice stopped. Silence buzzed in his ears before hands touched his face, his hair, all over his prone body.

“Tommy?” 

He knew that voice. 

Thomas’s eyes flew open a gasp leaving his lips. Whether it was from the sudden pain that assaulted him or the look of utter relief on the face of the one person he had longed most to see and thought he never would again. 

“Tommy! Tommy, what were you thinking?” The tone had gone from angry to shocked to trying to hide sheer terror. 

He couldn’t breathe, his whole body felt like it was on fire, he could feel the miracle blood coursing through his veins. He didn’t know what to say. So he said nothing. Instead he reached out a trembling hand. His fingertips brushed a pale face, skin unmarred and unlined by the infection that had taken the brilliant mind hidden beneath. 

Warm slender fingers took his outstretched hand, holding him as tight as he could. “Tommy.” The word was breathed like a prayer and Thomas’s strength found him the same time a sob escaped his throat. 

He launched himself at the other boy. Tears already tracking down his checks. Strong arms caught him, holding him steady, preventing him from knocking them both to the ground. That velvet voice whispered soft words of comfort, nimble fingers thread through his hair, and Thomas sobbed against the other’s chest. 

It felt like a life time before his tears stopped. All strength that had found him abandoned him in the same moment and he sagged in the strong, warm embrace. He squeezed his eyes tighter, feeling his heart pound in time with his stuttering breathing. Beneath his cheek the other boy was warm, the steady strong of a heart beating beneath the warm skin lulled him into an exhausted sleep once more. 

 

_ Pain. Pain. Pain. Voices whispering in anxious tones. Pain. The sound of water. So much water. Pain. Pain. Hands on his body. “Newt.” He could hear himself, voice slurred, struggling against the hands that held him, “NEWT!”  _

 

When Thomas came to next it was to gentle humming, fingers stroking his hair, fingertips tracing small patterns against his skin. He sighed in pleasure, letting himself relax into the touch. “Tommy, open your eyes for me?” 

It was that voice again, it was full of an emotion Thomas couldn’t place. He swallowed hard, willing his eyes open, hoping, praying to whatever god was out there, that this wasn’t a dream. He opened his eyes. 

Warm caramel eyes stared down at him, thin pink lips twisted up into a sardonic smile. “Welcome back.” 

Thomas’s mouth was dry, he could barely swallow as he stared up at that face. That face he was sure he was sure he would never see again. He blinked back tears again as his vision swam. 

“Newt.” 

The other boy was also blinking back tears, “Hey.” 

“Is this real? You are here?” 

Newt’s smile fell a little, before he nodded, brushing an errant strand of hair from Thomas’s face, “Yes, Tommy, I’m here.” 

Thomas sat up, ignoring the twinge of pain from his side, wrapping his arms around Newt, not crying this time, just wanting to hold the other boy close. They shifted on the small cot, wrapping themselves in each other. Thomas felt Newt bury his face against the side of his neck, and they just held each other, just breathing together, knowing the other was alive. 

It was a long moment before Newt pulled away. “You are a fool,” he murmured, reaching out to brush that same errant strand of hair out of Thomas’s eyes. “You shouldn’t be here, not yet.” 

“Here?” Thomas pulled away trying to get a good look at the room they were in, remembering suddenly that they were somewhere unfamiliar, “Where is ‘here’?” 

“I wanted you to live a long life, Tommy,” Newt murmured as if to himself, caramel eyes sad. 

“Newt? What are you talking about?” 

Newt stood in a burst of movement, tension flooding his body, hand carding through his hair, crossing the small room, leaving a confused Thomas sitting on the cot in stunned silence. 

“You went and got yourself shot, you stupid shank!” Newt snapped, his back still to him, shoulders hunched over, as if curling in on himself. 

Oh yeah, Thomas remembered bits and pieces now, the pain in his stomach flaring suddenly, flashes of that night coming back to him slowly. The look on Newt’s face as the knife pierced his skin, the inhuman noises that had left the other’s lips as they fought, the feeling of Newt going still in his arms. “Newt,” he whispered brokenly, reaching for the other boy. 

“I wanted to see you again, I prayed, I hoped, I bargained for it, but not like this, not like this,” Newt spun around eyes flashing in the dim light, glistening with tears he refused to shed, “I wanted you to see it, I wanted you to make it.” 

“What are you talking about?” Thomas struggled to push himself off the cot, swaying slightly as the world danced around him, pain sharp and insistent in his side, making spots dance before his eyes. 

Newt was looking at him, face clouded over, “You’re dying, Thomas. You’re dying and you should be living, and I can’t save you!” 

Thomas sucked in a sharp breath. What? He felt alive, if the pain that was currently making breathing difficult was any indication. He stared at the other, eyes taking in the handsome face twisted in emotional agony, those chocolate eyes dark with unshed tears full of pain. Thomas took a step towards Newt, hand out reached, hoping to offer some form of comfort or something - anything - to the other but the world when dark and the floor rose up to meet him. 

 

_ Agony. A blade piercing his skin. Cutting away dead flesh. Digging into to him. It was looking for something. Pain. Pain. Pain. He was screaming, thrashing against the hands that held him. “Hold him!” That voice sounded like Jorge.  _

 

He came to on the floor, Newt holding him, cradling him as if he had caught him just before he fell. The others slender body wrapped around him like a warm blanket, holding him, pressed back to chest, long legs splayed out on either side of him, bracketing him. Newt had his face buried in Thomas’s hair and he was crying, Thomas could feel hot tears against his skin. 

“Newt,” he murmured, trying to twist around to look the other in the face. 

Newt held him fast, arms tightening hold him, pull him closer, back to chest, not letting him move. “You have to go back,” Newt breathed against the skin of his neck raising goose bumps all over his skin, “You have to go. You can’t stay with me.” 

It took a long moment for Thomas to wriggle from the strong grasp, to ignore the pain and the spots dancing in front of his eyes, the sound of Minho’s voice in his head (or was it all around them in this room?), to kneel on both knees before Newt, still between the other’s splayed legs, reaching out to take his face in his hands. 

“I can’t,” he said, eye searching the handsome face, looking for something anything to say that would make Newt see that he couldn’t leave him, didn’t want to leave him, leaving him would kill him. 

Newt stared back eyes soft before going hard. “You have to. Go home, Tommy. It’s what you wanted.” 

“Not without you!” Thomas snapped, voice raised to a level of almost hysteria, “Not without you, never without you!” His voice cracked, “Never without you.” 

Time seemed to slow as Newt’s face went from hard to resigned to full of adoration. “Oh, Thomas,” he murmured, “What are you doing? You have a chance to live. To be free. Can’t you see that? You get to be happy. But you can’t do it here, not here and not with me.” 

Thomas opened his mouth to protest but Newt cut him off. “Not yet, not yet. You have so much you have to do. So much to do, too much left to do before you come here,” a strong hand cupped his face, brushing away a tear Thomas didn’t even know had fallen, “I want you to be happy, I want you to live, Tommy. And yes, God, do I want to keep you here to myself for all of eternity, but I can’t. You need to go back. Please. Live. For me. For Teresa. For Chuck and Alby and Winston.” 

A sob escaped Thomas, and he let himself fall forward into Newt’s embrace. “Live for us if you can’t for yourself.” 

“I don’t know if I can,” Thomas mumbled against Newt’s shoulder, “I don’t know if I can, Newt.” 

“You can.” 

Thomas shook his head, “Not without you, please don’t make me, not without you.” 

Newt pushed him away, hand on his shoulders, “Yes, without me.” Thomas shook his head, starting to speak, barely choking out a “Newt” before the other spoke again. “Tommy, please.” 

In that instance Thomas was thrust back to smoke filled sidewalk, Newt’s eyes red and filled with hate, alabaster skin spidered with black veins, lips and teeth turned black. He blinked the image away, replaced with the face before him, eyes clear and shining, face unlined but sad. “Please, don’t make this harder than it already is. I want you to stay, of course I do, but I need you to live. You have to go home.” Newt’s tone had gone from imploring to almost begging, his face twisting with something Thomas couldn’t recognize. 

“I don’t want to, not without you,” Thomas repeated. 

Newt stared at him, veil falling over his face as his eyes went dark with a very real anger that Thomas could recognize anywhere. “Don’t be an idiot, listen to me, for once in your life, and do what I ask instead of doing whatever you damn well please!” 

Thomas stared at him, eyes wide, mouth slack in surprise at the outburst. They stared at each other for several long moments before Newt sighed and looked away, “This isn’t real, Tommy, this isn’t the paradise you want, not yet anyway. I don’t want to let you go back, in fact it might kill me again to see you go and to know it will be such a very long time before I see you again. But I need you go look after the others, Minho needs you, and you are the only one who can look after him for me.” Newt finally looked back at him, “I need you to do this, and if you won’t do it for yourself do it for me.” 

Silence stretched between them. Thomas reached for Newt, taking his face in his hands. Newt looked up meeting his eyes, resting his own hand over Thomas’s, giving him a sad smile. “I miss you,” Thomas said softly, “And I will for the rest of my life.” 

“I know,” Newt sighed, squeezing his hand softly, “I miss you too.” 

The knelt there on the hard floor staring at each other, Thomas trying to memorize every line of the other’s face, never wanting to forget, never wanting to lose this image of his Newt once more healthy looking. He closed his eyes for a moment. 

 

_ His whole body was on fire, but it wasn’t burning him, not the way it had before. He was floating, fingers stroking his hair, a soft voice whispering endearments and pleas, the sound of waves against metal. “Please, come back, Thomas. We need you. C’mon, Thomas, not like this, don’t leave us like this.” _

 

Thomas snapped his eyes open to see Newt looking at him sadly. “They need you,” Newt murmured, “More than I do.” 

He shook his head. “It’s not fair,” Thomas said bluntly, sounding younger than he had felt in years. 

Newt chuffed out a humorless little laugh, “Life isn’t, Tommy.” 

They stared at each other again for a moment. This moment could have lasted a lifetime and Thomas would not have bored of it. Having Newt here, giving him a look that lit his face with all the things left unsaid between them, was more than Thomas could have ever hoped for again, could have ever hoped for after everything. 

“Tommy, I have to tell you,” he paused, eyes going big at he stared at the other boy in front of him. “I wanted to before but…”

“I know,” Thomas cut him off leaning forward to rest their foreheads together, noses brushing, “I know.” 

Newt closed his eyes, letting a single tear escape. It hurt. This hurt more than everything. Saying goodbye. They breathed each others air for several long heart beats before Thomas gasped out in pain, face contorting. “Newt,” he whispered. 

“I’m here,” Newt pulled him closer, “I’m here, Tommy.” 

 

_ He was freezing. But he was hot to the touch. He writhed on the small cot. His hand clasped in Minho’s. “C’mon, asshole, don’t give up now.”  _

 

“I have to go…” Thomas trailed off another gasp leaving his lips. 

“Yes.” 

He nodded, pressing his face closer to Newt’s. “Okay.” 

“Tommy,” Newt pulled away slightly, catching his eye. His face lit up in a sad but radiant smile. “I love you.” 

“Newt, I…”

Newt’s lips pressed to his, stopping all noise, lips parting to sigh into the kiss. Noses bumped together, breathes mingled. Thomas pressed himself closer, as close as he could before Newt shoved him backwards and he was falling into the black. 

 

_ Thomas woke up gasping for sea scented air, alive and alone, the warmth from Newt’s touch fading on his skin.  _


End file.
